September 30, 2005
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September 30th, 2005.
Last night I frightened poor Raleigh with my flatulence. I shouldn’t really write about this in the Journal, as knocks off any remaining rockstar mystery, but… really, I don’t revel in that bullshit anyhow. At the moment, Heather and I are sitting in the Pheasant Creek Coffeehouse in Apex, North Carolina, listening to a guy…